


Yours Truly

by welshyak



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Painter!Clarke, Scholar!Bellamy, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-29 17:48:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11445921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/welshyak/pseuds/welshyak
Summary: Clarke,In case you haven’t noticed already, you’re getting a letter from me. I know that we text every day, but something just feels right about writing you letters. I don’t know, don’t ask me.--Clarke moves across the US for school and leaves Bellamy behind. Bellamy writes letters because he's secretly sentimental like that.Inspired by an anonymous comment on bellarkeprompts.tumblr.com





	Yours Truly

**Author's Note:**

> I'd just like to say a couple of things:  
> -This is the first time I've written smut, I hope you like it  
> \--If you don't, tell me why so I can do better next time!  
> -I wrote Octavia as happy because she deserves that much!!  
> -I wrote more words than I thought I would
> 
> If you like it, leave a comment! It warms the very cockles of my heart.

Anon: I would like to read a fic inspired by the outro to Cinderella by Mac Miller. I’m thinking long distance or pen pals au where Clarke moves out and Bellamy insists on sending her handwritten letters bc he’s a nerd.

* * *

Yours Truly

 

Bellamy and Clarke had been roommates for almost exactly one year before she decided to move to a different university - Scripps College, in Los Angeles. So, like a dutiful roommate, Bellamy had helped Clarke pack her things, loaded them into a moving van, and took her to the airport. 

It was difficult seeing her go; they had grown close over the year they had spent as roommates. It would be an understatement to say that they were not friendly at the beginning - they were like two cats fighting. But like every living thing that has to share a small apartment together, they grew used to each other. 

It made sense, then, that the first few days after Clarke left were difficult for Bellamy. He had been used to waking up to hearing Clarke blow drying her hair in the morning, the soft rumble of the electric kettle they kept, rumbling away in the afternoon. The quiet comfort of sitting in silence reading textbooks. Most of all, he had missed - once they had gotten used to each other, that is - how Clarke would react when he told her an interesting story from one of his history textbooks. She would always listen intently, looking at him with calm in her eyes and would bring her mug of tea to her lips. 

If Bellamy could tell the truth - which he could, but only when he was black-out drunk - he would have said he missed her. 

It was two weeks after Clarke’s departure, two weeks of silence and emptiness in that small apartment, that Bellamy decided to start writing letters to her. 

He found a piece of paper, and a pen, and started to write. 

_Clarke,_

He hesitated. What should he say? They texted each other every day, what should go in a letter?

_Clarke,_

_How are you?_

No, it sounded too formal, too awkward. Bellamy started again.

_Clarke,_

_In case you haven’t noticed already, you’re getting a letter from me. I know that we text every day, but something just feels right about writing you letters. I don’t know, don’t ask me._

_How are your classes? I hear pre-med is ridiculously hard. You should give me every detail of every class you have, so that I can commiserate with you, because even with nearly 3000 miles between us, I can still hear you groaning over your textbook like usual._

_If you tell me about your classes, I’ll tell you about mine. If I find anything interesting, I’ll write to you about it._

_Here is one interesting thing I’ve found in my greek mythology course: Ares, the God of War, is a coward, and everybody hates him for it. He bows to his sister Athena, Goddess of Defence, Strength, and Righteous Battle. For a God so adamant on fighting, he has his limits. Apparently, even gods are fallible._

_That’s it from this end. Write me back._

_Miss you,_

_Bellamy._

 

Bellamy hesitated at the salutation at the end, but it was the truth. And Bellamy Blake was no liar. What harm could it possibly do?

 

 

Clarke received Bellamy’s letter three days later, on a Saturday. She decided that she would take the opportunity to get breakfast and tea from a nearby coffee shop. 

Clarke opened the letter carefully, admiring Bellamy’s elegant script. She read the letter once, twice, and a third time. She could hear Bellamy’s voice in his writing more clearly than in his texts, and Clarke could imagine him pouring over the piece of printer paper at his small desk in the corner of their living room, taking infinite care looking for spelling mistakes - for which he was renowned. 

Clarke smiled and sipped at her tea, and mulled over what Bellamy had said about Ares. It was almost as if she was back at home. _Home._ When had she begun to think that way? The thought didn’t perturb her as much as it should have, she would be the first to admit. 

 

_Miss you,_

_Bellamy_

 

 

Clarke understood that when Bellamy expressed any emotion, it was usually justified - in the case of anger - and the truth. She wondered about how much he did miss her. Clarke missed him more than she thought she would, and in reading the letter, she felt much less alone than she had previously felt. Clarke would hesitate to say this - she would only tell the truth when black out drunk - but, it helped to have something of his close to her. It was like a good luck charm, or a ward against evil. Either way, Clarke left the coffee shop to write back to Bellamy. 

 

_Hey Bellamy,_

_My courses are fine, nothing I can’t handle. Of course, the best class is art, obviously. In fact, I should probably be working on one of my projects instead of writing. I haven’t had any time to get to the studio this week, because I’m a pre-med student, and pre-med students never have time. Maybe taking such a labour-intensive class wasn’t such a good idea. Despite all of it, I’m not groaning as loudly as you think, I have a roommate who needs silence to concentrate._

_Her name’s Raven, by the way. I suppose you should know at least that much. She’s in mechanical engineering, and is up at all hours of the night, writing equations and whatever else engineers do. Too much math for me, biology is where it’s at._

_I think you’re right about the fallibility of gods, but isn’t the idea of a god to be omnipotent and all-powerful?_

_Also, tell me about your courses, I’m excited to hear more stories of what you’re studying._

_I’m sorry, I have to cut this letter short, I have tons of studying/lab work/artwork to do, and never enough time to finish it!_

_Miss you too,_

_Clarke_

 

Clarke sealed the envelope and put it in the mailbox the next day before her eight am class. 

Bellamy’s response came quickly, and Clarke was even more delighted than Bellamy to receive a response. 

 

_Clarke,_

_I’m sure you’ll find the time to finish everything, you always have. Somehow, I don’t know how, you always seem to manage._

_I’m glad you’re taking Art, I know how much you love creating beautiful things. Without it, you’d probably have a lot more pent up anger than you already do._

_My classes are alright, I guess. Kind of boring. it’s really all of the readings that get me, I’m already pretty far behind in the semester. I guess I don’t have your time management skills, and I don’t have you to keep me on track. You were always good for keeping me on schedule._

_I hope you like your roommate, because my new one’s kind of annoying. The apartment was too quiet so I got O to move in with me, instead of moving in with Lincoln. He’s not happy about that, but tough shit. My sister, my rules._

_As for your question about omnipotency and gods, I don’t know what to tell you. I don’t make the rules._

_How are you feeling? I know the stress is bearable for you, but I get a headache just thinking about that much memorization. Make sure you take care of yourself. Stay hydrated, and think about eating sometimes. I hear that helps with concentration. And don’t stay up like Raven does, I don’t know a lot about the brain, but from what I hear, it’s good if you sleep too._

_When do classes end for you? You should come visit when they do. Mine end on Dec 15th._

_If you ever feel like you have time, send me a text when you’re free and I’ll come visit._

_Your history fact of the day: There was a roman emperor called Gaius, who made his horse a senator._

_See you sometime,_

_Bellamy_

 

Bellamy sighed as he sealed the envelope. It had been a month and a half-ish since Clarke left. Bellamy didn’t know if it was just him, or winter settling in, but things seemed a little more grey than usual. And he wasn’t sure if it was just the stress from his classes, or him, but his heart seemed to hurt slightly more than normal. Everything seemed a little clearer when he was reading Clarke’s letters - he could even smell the faint scent of the perfume she wore on the paper. 

Octavia was out with Lincoln for the day, so Bellamy was left alone in the too-empty apartment. Writing to Clarke felt like writing a message in a bottle - one last desperate attempt to make contact with the outside world. Of course, Bellamy wouldn’t ever tell anyone that. Unless he was black out drunk. 

Bellamy pulled on his jacket and walked to the elevator, and walked to the front desk to drop off the letter for mailing. The girl at the desk greeted him.

“Another letter?” she asked cheerfully. Bellamy nodded. 

“I always love letters, they’re so romantic! Who’s the lucky person?”

“She’s just a friend.” _Just a friend._ Bellamy thought. 

“Well whoever she is, she’s lucky to have someone care enough about her to send her letters. It really is thoughtful.” The lady looked at Bellamy, kindness in her eyes. 

Bellamy smiled half-heartedly, and walked outside. _It’s more for me than for her._

Outside snow was falling softly onto the pavement, wreathing the ground in a crystalline white blanket. It was cold out too, Bellamy shivered in his jacket. It wasn’t uncommon for snow mid-October, but it made it even more difficult to get out of bed in the morning. If Clarke was there, he could have made an effort to appreciate the snow - Clarke loved snow, seeing it falling from the sky especially - but, like everything, Bellamy’s enthusiasm was running downhill. 

In fact, just a couple days later, before Bellamy had a chance to open Clarke’s letter, Octavia mentioned over dinner how little he smiled these days. 

“You know, it’s kind of weird…” she started, picking at her take-out chinese food box with her chopsticks.

“What’s weird?” Bellamy prompted.

“I don’t want to offend you or anything, but you haven’t been you lately.” Octavia tucked her legs under her on the couch, turning to face Bellamy, her eyes clear and sharp in the warm light of the living room. Bellamy gave pause to consider what she had said.

“I just mean that… you haven’t smiled as much lately, you barely talk about history to anybody, shit, you don’t even _talk_ that much anymore!”

“You know I’ve never been much of a talker, O.” Bellamy said, a serious look on his face. 

“But you’ve never been a quiet person either!”

Bellamy couldn’t look at his sister - he knew she was right, he had been acting strangely. 

“Well,” he said, “What do you think I should do?” 

Octavia flipped her long hair over her shoulder, and stared into space for a moment. “I think you should go see Clarke.” she said decidedly.

Bellamy nearly spat out his pop. “What?!” 

“Okay, just listen for a second,” Octavia pointed to Bellamy with her chopsticks. “Clarke is good for you, a good friend. I think you should use her as an excuse to go to get some sun, to be honest. Go to some beaches!”

“Yeah, well, as soon as you find enough money to buy a ticket for me, I’ll go.” Bellamy smiled at Octavia, and she laughed. 

“Do you promise?”

Bellamy paused again, and looked at his sister. In his eyes she saw something that only she could decipher: he looked vulnerable, maybe even scared. 

“Yeah.” Bellamy’s voice cracked, but Octavia pretended not to notice. They continued watching the movie playing on their small tv, and ate their chinese food in silence. 

It was only after they had cleaned up their food and gone to get ready for bed that Bellamy remembered Clarke’s letter. 

He went to his room, turned on the small lamp light, sat on the edge of his bed, and opened the letter. 

 

_Bellamy,_ Clarke wrote,

_I am taking care of myself, and I do not have pent up anger! You just bring the worst out in me, that’s all._

_Here’s a fun fact about my school: first years don’t get a reading week! Just when you think you have a week of sleeping ahead of you, it turns out, nope! You have to everything all at once!_

_So I don’t think you can visit me until classes end for the winter break. Dec 18th is when my classes end. And you should definitely come visit me, otherwise I think I might actually go insane! It’s a miracle I haven’t already - I think your letters help._

_Classes are more hectic than ever, if you can’t tell. Even Raven can’t stop me from moaning over my textbooks._

_I’m sorry this letter is so short, but duty calls._

_Clarke_

_P.S. sorry about the tea stains, I take your letters to this coffee shop just down the street from where I’m staying, and read and respond to them over breakfast. Today I was just a little less meticulous than usual._

 

Bellamy smiled and gently touched the stains at the edge of the paper. It always felt so _real_ when he read her letters. It was like he could feel the sun and the warm wind on his back and in his hair. Bellamy folded the paper gently, and placed it on his bedside table. 

“How’s she doing?” asked Octavia through a toothbrush, at the foot of Bellamy’s door.

“She’s going insane.” Bellamy smiled at O.

“Same as usual then.” Octavia shrugged, and smiled at her older brother. 

Bellamy slipped past Octavia on the way to the bathroom.

“What else did Clarke say?”

“She wants me to visit her.” Bellamy said, looking at himself in the bathroom mirror. He could see - and feel - the corners of his mouth growing upwards slightly, in a real, genuine smile. Octavia hadn’t seen her brother look so happy in a long time. 

“Great! Move.” Bellamy moved and Octavia spat out her toothpaste into the sink. “When?”

“Apparently,” Bellamy started, “Clarke doesn’t get to have a fall reading week, so she said I should come after her semester’s over, three days after my semester’s finished.”

Octavia pulled her hair into a bun. “So we have plenty of time to find some money to get you a plane ticket, then!”

“Yeah…” he sighed. 

Octavia said goodnight, and left Bellamy to ponder sleep on his own. 

 

_Did he take the bait?_

_-Lincoln, 11:17pm_

 

_Didn’t have to, Clarke invited him_

_-Octavia, 11:18pm_

 

_So… plane ticket?_

_-Lincoln, 11:18pm_

 

_No, Bellamy’s too proud_

_Keep it on hand in case things get worse tho_

_just in case_

_-Octavia, 11:18pm_

 

_will do_

_-Lincoln, 11:19pm_

 

_love ya_

_-Octavia, 11:19pm_

 

_love you back_

_Goodnight O_

_-Lincoln, 11:20pm_

 

_goodnight <3_

_-Octavia, 11:20pm_

 

 

 

 

The rest of October passed by rapidly; Bellamy decided to put all of his effort into his classes, and for once, he was doing better than usual. Academically, that is. 

Emotionally, not so much. To put it poetically, Bellamy’s candle that was burning bright was now not much more than a whisper of smoke. To put is less poetically, even Bellamy admitted to himself - one night when Octavia had insisted on taking him out to a club, where he proceeded to get black-out drunk - he was not doing…well. Bellamy saw the way his sister looked at him, the frantic texting on her cellphone, even the way Lincoln treated him was different. Bellamy was always proud, but he hid his unhappiness pretty well, if he were to say so. The only people who were worried about him were O and Lincoln. And only half of those people he actually liked. Even Clarke was caught up in her own slight catastrophe - from what he could surmise from her letters, Bellamy could see that pre-med was treating Clarke like hell. 

 

Sometime in early November, Bellamy learned how to be honest to himself in the early hours of the morning, when the light from the sun would tinge just the tips of the sky. 

Then, and only then, could he think about the future. In the light of the day, and in the dark of the night, Bellamy could only focus on the present. There was something about dawn that made it easier to entertain situations, to hope, to believe. 

Bellamy wouldn’t recognize the patterns to what he imagined then, but there was a common occurrence among them: there was never a future he imagined where Clarke wasn’t present in some form. 

 

Clarke’s letters started arriving infrequently, due to her busy schedule. They stopped at the beginning of December, with the last cram for the final exams. Bellamy understood, he had a ton of papers to write for his classes. 

Snow littered the ground, and the sky was grey for days on end. Bellamy was looking forward to going to San Francisco. In fact, he was counting the days. 

Bellamy was at his desk, writing, when his phone buzzed. It was a text from Clarke. 

 

_Is it possible for you to come a few days earlier?_

_-Clarke, 2:02am_

 

_I have my final tomorrow at 8am_

_why?_

_-Bellamy, 2:02am_

 

_I don’t want to sound dramatic, but somebody’s got to stop me from going insane and Raven just went home for break_

_-Clarke 2:02am_

 

_I’ll see if I can find a plane ticket_

_-Bellamy, 2:03am_

 

It took Bellamy two minutes to find a ticket to LAX, and found that it would cost a pretty penny to go. $489 to be exact. Where could he find that money?! He barely had any money as it was, Bellamy didn’t think he should spend all of his money on a plane ticket. 

But it was Clarke. And Clarke needed him there.

The choice was easy.

 

_I have a flight at 12:30pm at LaGuardia to LAX_

_arrive at 6:00pm_

_come pick me up?_

_-Bellamy, 2:06am_

 

_yes. I’ll be there_

_Bellamy?_

_-Clarke, 2:07am_

 

_what_

_-Bellamy, 2:07am_

 

_thank you_

_-Clarke, 2:07am_

 

Clarke could imagine Bellamy tipping his head slightly forward and smiling in his Bellamy way at his phone. In her impulsive behaviour, she hadn’t factored in the time change. It was only 11:00pm in Los Angeles, it must have been 2:00pm in New York City!

_Bellamy, what are you doing up so late?!_

_-Clarke, 2:10am_

 

_like I said, I have a final tomorrow_

_-Bellamy, 2:10am_

 

_if you don’t go to sleep i’m going to hit you_

_-Clarke, 2:10am_

 

_Okay, I give up anyway_

_Goodnight Clarke_

_-Bellamy, 2:10am_

 

_Goodnight, good luck on your exam tomorrow_

_-Clarke, 2:11am_

 

Bellamy turned off his phone. Saying goodnight to someone felt extremely intimate, even if they were all the way across the country. 

Bellamy sighed and rubbed at his sore and dry eyes. His head swam when he got up, but Bellamy persisted and rolled into bed, turned off the light, and slept a dead sleep. It was the best he’d had in a long time. 

 

The exam was easy, Bellamy left an hour early, but not without a cramp in his hand from writing as fast as he could. 

Bellamy called O. He hadn’t called her the night before, it being two am at the time of the decision. And he knew that Octavia would not be up at least before nine am at the very least. Octavia was decidedly _not_ an early riser. 

She picked up after two rings. 

“Hey Bell, what’s up?”

Bellamy stood outside in the shiver-inducing brittle wind, trying to clear his head. “Hey O, you know how I said I would go see Clarke?”

“As I recall, you promised, big brother. What about it?”

Bellamy paused and smiled, a Los Angeles warmth swirled in him like milk in coffee. “I need a ride to LaGuardia. Know anyone with a car?”

Octavia nearly shrieked into her phone. Unbeknownst to Bellamy, Octavia was hitting Lincoln hard in the arm while he was making breakfast in his underwear. “Let me ask Lincoln.” 

“Bellamy needs a ride to the airport. We’re going.” Octavia whispered. Lincoln nodded. “Lincoln says yes. Where are you?”

“I’m outside Columbia right now. Wait, you didn’t actually ask Lincoln, did you?” 

“We’ll see you in five.” Octavia never answered, but then again, she never needed to. She ended the call, and did a happy dance in front of Lincoln. 

Go get dressed,” he laughed. “We gotta go!” Lincoln smacked her ass as she walked away to her bedroom.

Bellamy suddenly realized that Lincoln had probably stayed the night. How had he gotten in? That sneaky fucker, Bellamy would have to talk to him about that. But, after. _After seeing Clarke._

He had been smart, and looked a little stupid; Bellamy had brought his suitcase with him to his exam, and plopped it at the front of the room. Yes he had gotten looks, no he didn’t care - he was too tired to care. 

Five cold minutes later, Bellamy saw a crappy black car pull into the parking section in front of Butler Library, and a very happy Octavia waving from the window. 

Bellamy put his suitcase in the trunk, and crawled into the backseat. Octavia handed him a cup of hot coffee, which he accepted gratefully. Lincoln greeted him, and started driving towards LaGuardia.

“Hi.” he said. 

“Hey Bell!” Octavia turned around in her seat, and gave him an incandescent smile. “Are you excited to go to LA?”

“Yeah.” _Yeah._ Bellamy realized he was actually going, finally! Relief was over his features, and he didn’t appear so tired and pained anymore. 

They chatted for a bit, mainly Octavia and Bellamy, Lincoln interjected a couple of times. Traffic was being difficult today, he had to keep his eyes on the road. A comfortable silence and the smell of fresh coffee permeated the small space. 

“Bellamy?” Octavia said.  
Bellamy had been in zoning in and out, thinking of what it would be like to go to Los Angeles. _To see Clarke._

“Hmm?” he said.

“How did you pay for the ticket?”

“What do you mean, how did I pay for the ticket? I used my money.” Bellamy’s voice was gruff with lack of sleep.

“Oh.” Octavia said. 

She looked at Lincoln, who made eye contact briefly, nodded and smiled. 

“What’s going on?” 

“Remember how you said that as soon as we found enough money to buy you a plane ticket, you would go?”

Bellamy didn’t remember. It had been a month since they’d had the conversation, and it didn’t seem to be very important at the time. “No.”

“Oh,” Octavia repeated. “Well, happy birthday, big brother, I wired some money into your account!”

Bellamy’s stomach dropped. “You didn’t. Tell me you didn’t, O.” 

“Too late! It’s already there. You’re just going to have to accept that you have the best sister in the whole goddamn world. That’s all there is to it.” 

Now, Bellamy is and always will be extremely proud, anybody could tell you that. But, he’d grown up with Octavia, and they’d had enough fights for him to know that she could hold her own in any fight they fought. Looking at the determined set of her eyes, and hearing the challenge in her voice, Bellamy knew he couldn’t win this fight. No matter how much he wanted to win. 

“You’re right, I do have the best goddamn sister in the world.” He put Octavia into a headlock from behind the seat, and she expertly defended herself. 

“Thanks, O.” Bellamy said quietly. Octavia just nodded. 

 

It took half an hour to get to LaGuardia. 

Octavia gave him a tight hug - she’d gotten much stronger since she’d been seeing Lincoln. Maybe he wasn’t such a bad guy after all. Lincoln gave him a handshake, and they said their goodbyes. 

Before Bellamy knew it, he was through baggage check, and on the plane. It was a small plane, not with much leg room. Bellamy had always hated traveling by plane for that very reason. 

He sat next to an old lady who was traveling to see her granddaughter in Pasadena. 

“Are you going to visit someone there?” she asked. 

Bellamy nodded. 

“Who is it?” the lady paused, “Oh my goodness where are my manners, don’t answer if you don’t want to!”

“No no, it’s fine,” Bellamy said, “She was an…” what could he say about Clarke? “An old roommate.”

The lady laughed, a loud sound in the quiet plane.  
“What’s so funny?” Bellamy asked. 

“Old roommate my ass! Now, why would you go see an old roommate if they didn’t mean anything to you other than them being a roommate?”

“She’s a friend.” Bellamy said gruffly.

“Yeah, well, whoever she is, if you’re going to see her, you’d better make the best of it. These flights ain’t cheap.” 

Bellamy nodded again, taking out his headphones and iPod. 

“What I mean to say is, don’t let this old roommate get away. If you really like her so much that you buy a plane ticket to see her, she goddamn well gotta be your soulmate. Of course, I’m a romantic, what do I know about anything…” she proceeded to talk at length about romance.

Bellamy popped in his headphones and closed his eyes.  
It was going to be a long flight. 

 

It was a long flight, but it was over. Bellamy couldn’t wait to get off the plane and stretch his legs. The first thing he did after he got off the plane with his single carry-on was brush his teeth in one of the airport bathrooms. His phone buzzed in his pocket. 

 

_Here, where are you?_

_-Clarke, 6:15pm_

 

Bellamy’s heart started beating faster.

 

_I’ll be out in a second, let me find an exit and I'll text you where I am_

_-Bellamy, 6:16pm_

 

Bellamy finished brushing his teeth, and went in the direction that the signs pointed. 

The moment he stepped around the corner to baggage claim, he saw her. 

Well, that’s a bit of an overstatement. He saw a flash of blonde hair and then something was attacking him. 

“Hey princess.” he murmured into her hair. Clarke breathed a sigh of relief, making a path of heat bloom around his heart from her breath. 

Time seemed to stand still. They held each other for what seemed an eternity, and if the lady from the plane was there, she’d say, “That’s an awfully _long_ hug for an _old roommate._ ” sarcastically. And, Bellamy thought, she was right. She was completely right. 

It was like a game of chicken, the version where neither of them would let go first. Eventually, Bellamy’s stomach decided. A small growl erupted in his chest, which was very perceptible if you had your head against Bellamy’s chest. 

Clarke giggled, and let go to look up at Bellamy. She looked at him with stars in her eyes, and a dopey smile on her face, which Bellamy was sure was on his own face. 

“Hi,” she mouthed. 

“Hi back.” he whispered. 

“Wanna get outta here?” Clarke asked, her eyes crinkling as her smile grew wider. Bellamy loved the way they crinkled.

“Yeah, I’m starving.” 

“Ok.” Clarke whispered, and they turned to leave. 

They didn’t let go of each other until they reached her car. 

“How was the flight?” asked Clarke.

“It was fine,” Bellamy said, “There was a lady sitting next to me who wouldn’t stop talking, but, there’s nothing some music can’t drown out.” he placed his suitcase in the trunk, and sat himself in the front seat, and pulled the chair all the way back. Clarke laughed, and it was music to Bellamy’s ears.  
He looked at her then, really took her in. Clarke was thinner than usual, and despite the Los Angeles sun, she looked a little grey. But she looked like she was getting better every second. Bellamy took that as a good sign. 

Clarke started her new-old car. “Food?” she asked. 

“Food.” Bellamy replied. 

They drove off. 

 

Bellamy was more than happy to be with Clarke, but he was ecstatic about the heat. Even if it was the winter, it was infinitely warmer than New York. He put his hand out the window, letting it surf with the wind.  
With the warmth of the sun and Clarke combined, Bellamy smiled all the way to Clarke’s little apartment. 

It was small, of course, but it felt like home, and it was distinctly Clarke. 

They got take-out, and ate outside on Clarke’s balcony, watching the sunset over the city. 

“You’ve got a nice view.” Bellamy said, taking a swig of his beer. 

“The view’s better for over here.” Clarke smiled, shading her eyes from the sun, looking at Bellamy. 

One thing Clarke really loved about Bellamy was the way he got so flustered. He looked like the kind of person that couldn’t be moved easily. But contrary to that belief, you just had to find his weak spots, and he would crumble to dust. Flirting was one of these ways. 

Clarke smirked and revelled in the way his face lit up, and how he blushed, and when sent a quick, shy smile her way before turning to look back at the sunset. 

They settled into a comfortable silence, watching the last of the pink and orange rays settle lower and lower in the sky. 

Before long, it became night. The stars twinkled in the clear sky, the moon hung lover over the city. 

Clarke went inside and brought out a little candle and a lighter - Raven’s, not mine - she explained. 

Clarke lit the candle and placed it on the table between them. 

“How’re exams going?” asked Bellamy, and drank his dessert beer.

Clarke looked uncomfortable, and looked at Bellamy with a pained expression. “I dropped out.” 

He nearly choked. “You did what?” Bellamy coughed.

“It wasn’t doing me any good! I was so unhappy, I know you could tell from my letters.” 

Bellamy shook his head. “I don’t blame you. Medicine’s always been more of your mom’s thing.” 

Clarke looked down at the beer held in her hands. “I got a deal with a buyer in New York, for my paintings.” She looked across the table at Bellamy. 

“Woah, that’s huge, I’m proud of you! You’re going to follow through with it, right?”

Clarke rubbed her neck. “I don’t know. What if I… I don’t know, fail? What if I don’t do well enough?”

If Bellamy had had enough space to move on the balcony, he would have taken Clarke’s hands in his. As it was, he settled for putting his hands on the table. “Clarke, you _love_ to paint! Don’t let yourself get caught up in the politics of it. Do it because you love to. With art, there’s no chance of failure. All you have to do to be successful is to paint what you want to paint. Fuck anybody else’s opinions.”

Clarke laughed. “I suppose you have a point. When did you get so smart?”

“I’ve always been smart, you’re just too caught up in my looks to notice.” He gave her a cheeky grin and drank his beer. 

One thing Bellamy really loved about Clarke is that she could handle herself when someone was flirting with her. She crooked an eyebrow and had challenge in her eyes. Her retorts were his favourite part. 

“S’true.” Clarke said, looking out into the night. 

Bellamy wasn’t expecting _that_. His heart thumped in his chest, and a stone weighed heavily over his stomach. It couldn’t be true, could it? Bellamy stared blankly at Clarke. She did a double take when she saw his shocked expression.

“What, a girl can’t tell her ex-roommate that he’s at least a little hot?” 

“A _little_?” Ok, now he was offended.

Clarke laughed, really laughed. She threw her head back and laughed hard into the Los Angeles night. “Alright, maybe more than a little.” Clarke got up and started to clean up the leftover wrappers from their take-out dinner. 

She started to the kitchen, and Bellamy followed, leaning against the wall that separated the living room and the kitchen.

“What about me?” Clarke asked playfully. Deep down though, she really wanted to know. 

Bellamy crossed his arms, and Clarke couldn’t help but stare at the muscles in his forearms. She hoped he didn’t see. 

Bellamy appraised her. Clarke suddenly became shy under such careful scrutiny, and her breathing showed her tension. 

“You’re alright.” Bellamy decided. He let the words sink in, seeing realization flash across Clarke’s face. She swatted him on the arm, and he caught her hand in his. He grabbed her other hand, and Clarke tried her hardest to break free of his strong but playful grip. 

“Bellamy!” Clarke laughed. She pounded her small fists on his chest. “Stop hitting yourself!” she laughed, and Bellamy was laughing too. 

“Are you trying to hurt me, princess?” he forced her hands to stay still against his chest. Clarke could feel how warm he was, the smell of sandalwood light on the air between them. Clarke stopped laughing, but her smile couldn’t fall from her face if it tried. 

“What about me?” Clarke repeated. 

Bellamy looked down into her ice-blue eyes. “You know you’re beautiful.” when had his voice gotten so husky?

Clarke sniggered. “Cut the Clueless bullshit, you’re not Paul Rudd.”  
Bellamy chuckled, and admired the way Clarke’s lips sounded the words. Had he been staring at her mouth this entire time?

He bent down to whisper in her ear, feeling her breath tickling the hairs on his neck. “You are so beautiful, even Aphrodite can’t compare.” 

Clarke moved her head and suddenly she was kissing him, and it was surprising, exhilarating, but oh so welcome. 

Before he knew it, he was kissing her back.  
Clarke’s lips were so soft, and she was so close, Bellamy swam and lost himself in the feeling. He could feel her hands slipping up his neck into his hair, and he’d never felt such satisfaction at having hands in his hair. Maybe because it was Clarke. Clarke makes all the difference. 

She was so small, and he was so tall, it became difficult to get closer to one another. Bellamy removed his hands from her wrists to slipthem down to below her ass. He tapped twice, and Clarke seemed to understand, because she jumped up, and Bellamy caught her. The feeling of her legs tight around his hips drove him insane. He moved them to the kitchen counter, and sat her down, and moved down to her neck. Bellamy placed his lips along her jawline, and then down her throat. He could feel her humming against his lips. Clarke tilted her head to allow him more access to her neck. When he hit a particular sweet spot - at the nape of her neck - Clarke squeezed her legs tighter around him, and made a whining sound at the back of her throat that Bellamy wanted to hear again, and again, and again. He tried nipping at her skin, and Clarke clutched him closer, if that’s even possible. Oh, he’s going to have so much fun. 

Bellamy brought his head back up to face Clarke. 

Her lips were puffy and slack from kissing, and her eyes hooded with want. 

“Bedroom?” Bellamy asked. 

Clarke nodded in response. Bellamy picked her up and carried her into the living room. 

“Uhh,” he paused, his heart banging out a steady fast rhythm in his chest, “Which way’s your room?” 

Clarke laughed, and put her head against Bellamy’s shoulders. She pointed in the right direction, and Bellamy walked to a closed door. 

“Okay hold on to me.”

“I am!”

“Tighter.” Bellamy can feel Clarke getting closer and closer to him, and his mind swims. 

Bellamy lets go of Clarke with one hand, and opens the closed door. Her room is dark, the semi-see through curtains pulled over the windows. 

Clarke started kissing him again, and Bellamy’s mind effectively shut off except for one-word sentences.  
Bellamy walked into her room, in the direction of her bed. Clarke bit his lower lip, and Bellamy emitted a moan from deep within him. Clarke was driving him crazy, she’s never really stopped driving him crazy.

Bellamy threw her on her bed gently, Clarke giggling giddily as she fell, and landed with a soft thump. He took off his shirt, and Clarke only had seconds to admire his physique in the amber light of the city. 

“You sure you want to do this?” Bellamy rumbles. Clarke’s heart kick-started at his voice. She used her elbows to prop herself up. 

“Yes. Are you?” Clarke bit her lip. Now’s not the time to pussyfoot around.

“Yeah. Just wanted to make sure.” 

“Thanks,” Clarke said, “Now get over here already!”

Bellamy pounced over Clarke, who put her hands in his hair, and kissed him fervidly. They rolled over, and Clarke was on top of him, grinding down. She took her top off, and then her bra. Bellamy reached up and placed his lips wherever he could: along her collarbone, her neck, her breasts. Bellamy took one of her nipples in his mouth, and Clarke sighed blissfully. He moved one of his hands down to her ass, and found it still clothed. Bellamy slid his hand under the hem and moved to her other nipple, playing with it with his tongue. He grabbed her ass, and she squeaked, and settled deeper into his hand. Clarke moved her hand between them, and undid the buttons of her shorts, and rolled off of Bellamy to wiggle them off. He took the opportunity to take off the pants that he’d been wearing for far too long, in his opinion. 

Clarke climbed back on top of him and pinned him down. Bellamy easily rolled her over and he was on top, placing light kisses over her body, working his way down. 

He lowered himself between her legs, her hands already tangled in his hair. Bellamy teased her, kissing down her soft thighs slowly. He wrapped his hands under her legs and around her hips. 

“Stop teasing me!” Clarke giggled. She was getting riled up, Bellamy could tell. 

“Do you want me to go down on you?”  
“Yeah.” Clarke said, rubbing her face with her hands. 

“Say it.” Bellamy rumbled. Clarke was silent. “Say it.” 

“Go down on me.” 

“Yeah alright.” Bellamy smiled. 

Clarke laughed, but it soon turned to a moan. Bellamy didn’t stop what he was doing, despite wanting to laugh. 

She was so wet already, Bellamy could already taste it on his tongue. He flicked at her clit with his tongue, making her hips buck. His hands were firm against her hips in an effort to make Clarke stay as still as he could make her. Bellamy placed his mouth over her bud and tongued at it with all the passion he had. Clarke squirmed and bucked under him when he changed the pressure, and the sounds that his strokes elicited made him even harder. Bellamy pressed against the bed in seeking friction to ease the buzzing in his mind. It worked, but provided little relief.

Bellamy freed one of his hands from underneath Clarke’s leg, and replaced his mouth with his thumb. He massaged her clit with a firm pattern, and slipped one finger, then another into her wet folds. Clarke’s thighs jolted. He looked up at Clarke as he started moving his fingers inside her, blindly searching for that sweet spot. 

Clarke looked beautiful, her naked body covered in the soft orange light of the city. Her head was tilted back, and her mouth open, stray hairs brushed across her face. Clarke looked down at him. 

“Why’d do you stop?” she asked, her voice ragged.

Had he stopped? He didn’t need to wonder why. “You’re so beautiful.” Bellamy said, as a way of answering. 

Clarke laughed, “Keep going, it feels good.”

She didn’t need to ask twice. 

Bellamy moved to play at her with his mouth, moving his fingers slowly and deliberately. 

“Go faster.” Clarke ordered. There was something in her voice that said that Bellamy shouldn’t challenge her. 

He knew he’d found a perfect rhythm by using Clarke’s hands as a guide: whenever she gripped his hair harder, that was a sign that he should keep doing whatever he was doing. 

“Bellamy, I…” Clarke panted. Her thighs raised up off of the bed, and she gripped the sheets of her bed in a white-knuckled fist. 

“Keep going.” she said, voice taught with tension. 

Her back arched, and a strangled cry sounded through the air as Clarke came on Bellamy’s fingers. He placed his tongue flat against her clit, and let her ride it out. 

When Bellamy heard her breathing return to normal, he kissed her thigh and crept over her, looking down onto her face. Clarke couldn’t stop laughing. 

“Hi.” Clarke said coyly. 

“Hi back.” Bellamy rumbled.

“That was amazing!” Clarke’s smile was incandescent enough to fill Bellamy with it’s light.

“I could tell.” Bellamy replied, and laughed as Clarke slapped his shoulder lightly. 

“Come here.” she said, and guided his mouth to hers. Clarke could taste herself on his lips. He kissed her quickly after their lips parted, and lied down on his side next to her. 

Clarke’s eyes were mischievous, and she grazed her fingers down his muscled body, and took him in her hand. Bellamy let out a soft moan at her touch, but didn’t move. 

“Perfect.” Clarke whispered as she felt his length. She flipped over to her bedside drawer, and brought out a condom. Bellamy reached to take it, but Clarke flicked it out of reach.

“No, let me put it on.” she smiled playfully. 

Bellamy threw up his hands. “Be my guest.” he said. 

Clarke opened the wrapper, and put it in her mouth. She placed her mouth over him, and rolled down the condom over him. Bellamy couldn’t help but watch the whole time. It felt amazing.

After the condom was on, Clarke did a little jazz hand. “Ta-da!” she laughed and brushed her hair back with her fingers. To Bellamy, she was the cutest thing in the world.

Bellamy laughed, “Where did you learn how to do that? Wait, don’t tell me, I probably don’t want to know.” 

Clarke straddled him, and Bellamy brought his hands to her hips, stroking her thighs. Clarke rolled her eyes. “The internet, duh. No time for anything else in pre-med.” What she really meant was _I didn’t want anyone else, so the internet had to do._

“Oh, ok.”

“Really!” Clarke put her hands on his chest to add emphasis to her point. 

Bellamy looked up at her. “I believe you.”

“Not much time for anything in graduate studies?” Clarke asked innocently. 

“You wouldn’t believe the amount of readings I had to do.” Bellamy said. What he really meant was _I don’t want anyone else but you._

Clarke laughed, and the corners of her eyes crinkled in the way that Bellamy loved. 

“Can we please shut up and do this?” Clarke giggled. 

“Sure.” Bellamy smiled, and placed his hand behind his head. Clarke went to swat his arm again, and he caught her hand, and then the other, and forced her to lower herself down on top of him. They were looking at each other, noses touching. 

Clarke kissed him and Bellamy let go of her arms to tickled her sides with his hands, occasionally touching her nipples. 

Clarke started grinding against him, and Bellamy swore there was no greater feeling than that in the entire world. 

His tongue touched her lips tentatively, and Clarke responded quickly with her own tongue, but their kiss was stopped short when Clarke sat back up. 

She lifted herself up slightly above Bellamy, and guided him into her. Clarke was the one to set the pace: slow at first, but it soon picked up. Bellamy could feel his heart thumping in his chest, and his mind could think of nothing other than Clarke. 

She placed her hands on his chest, and her breasts trembled with each successive pump. Clarke couldn’t help but to squeak involuntarily every time she went down to his base, and played with one of her nipples. 

Bellamy reached down to play with her, which made Clarke yell. He’s heard Clarke yell before, but never like this. This was new. 

She bucked wildly on him, and she came with another yell, and buried her face at the curve of Bellamy’s neck. 

Bellamy flipped them over and pounded into her with such force that the bed shook against the wall, and the light on her dresser rattled. 

Clarke came again quickly, calling out his name, and Bellamy could feel her grip around him. He didn’t last much longer, and came with Clarke’s name on his lips. 

He laid down next to Clarke on her bed, to catch his breath. 

They looked at each other, both of their faces sated and sparkling with satisfaction. Even in the dim light of the room, it looked like Clarke was glowing. 

Bellamy lifted his hand to brush a stray piece of hair off her face. 

They moved closer to each other, Bellamy snuggling into the crook of Clarke’s neck, draping a muscular arm across her torso. Clarke played with his hair, kissed his forehead, and tangled her legs with his. 

In the small apartment in Los Angeles, the pair fell asleep naked, on a messy bed. 

 

Bellamy awoke slowly. Clarke was running her fingers along his forearm, and along his neck, both of which were bathed in the soft glow of early morning light. Bellamy nuzzled into Clarke’s neck, and she sighed. 

“Bellamy?” Clarke whispered.

“Mmm,” Bellamy responded. 

“What are we?”

Despite only being half-awake, Bellamy rolled off Clarke a little, to lie his head on the pillow next to her. He took her hand gently, and placed it against his chest. 

“You feel this?” Bellamy looked into her eyes, brown to blue.

Clarke nodded, she could feel Bellamy’s heart beat out slowly and surely. 

“This belongs to you.” 

Clarke blinked, and drew in a small breath. 

“Okay.” she whispered. Clarke took Bellamy’s strong hand and placed it above her breast. 

“This belongs to you to.” 

Bellamy nodded. 

They stayed like that, falling asleep. Their heartbeats beat in synch. 

Bellamy waited until Clarke was asleep, then untangled himself from her limbs. He went to find a piece of paper and a pen.

 

Clarke woke to an empty bed. She got up, and searched for something to put on, settling for Bellamy's shirt, so that it enveloped her in his smell. 

Clarke opened her door, and smelt bacon, and followed the smell to the kitchen. 

Bellamy was wearing her bathrobe, the one that was blue silk and ridiculously short. 

“Hey, thought we could use some breakfast.” he noticed what she was wearing. “You look good. Where’d you get that shirt from?”

Clarke smiled, and waltzed towards him. “Found it on my floor.” She hugged him from behind, which made Bellamy’s heart swell. She gave him a squeeze. “I missed you so much it was painful.”

“Mm.” Bellamy murmured in agreement while stirring the bacon in the pan.

Clarke slipped her fingers between the covers of the robe, and placed a hand against his smooth chest. “Is it true what you said? Is this mine?” She pressed her hand against his chest. 

“I… wrote you a letter. It’s in your room, go find it.”

And Clarke did find it. It wasn’t in an envelope, but it was folded, and addressed to her in Bellamy’s beautiful script. 

 

_Clarke,_ he wrote,

_While you were gone, I would always wake up at dawn. And since it’s dawn now, I thought I’d write you a letter._

_I found it was much easier to admit things to myself at dawn, to daydream, to have hope. I imagined my future, and what I wanted to happen, what I thought could happen, and what couldn’t possibly happen._

_But, I realized just last night, there was no version of my future without you in it._

_If you want me in your life, hell yeah I’ll be there for you. And if not, that’s ok. No matter wherever the hell you are in the world, my heart will always have a place for you, and you’ll always have a home to come back to, if you want._

_If you say yes, we’ll be together through the worst winters and the best summers. Whatever the world throws at us, I’m sure we’ll fight it together._

_Yours Truly,_

_Bellamy_

 

Clarke walked back out of her room, and to the kitchen. Bellamy was putting the bacon onto plates, toast was in the toaster. All was silent, Bellamy couldn’t even look at her. 

“Well?” he said gruffly, his voice cracking. 

Clarke went over and enthusiastically kissed him on the mouth. “Yes. Yes! That’s the only answer I can give.” 

Bellamy’s eyes warmed, and he smiled a tiny smile. “Good. Let’s eat before the bacon gets cold and you can show me around town.”

 

When they got back to New York, Bellamy decided to give the small apartment to O and Lincoln, as it seemed to fit them better anyways. Clarke and Bellamy found an apartment with a small studio where Clarke could paint, and where Bellamy could put his desk by a window, looking out over the New York skyline. Clarke would drag him to Central Park after a heavy snowfall, and Bellamy would drag her to museums that had a particularly interesting exhibit. More than that, they enjoyed sitting on the couch after dark, reading books. Bellamy with his books, and Clarke with hers. 

For the first time in a year, they were happy.

**Author's Note:**

> there you have it! They're so cute! I hope you enjoyed it.  
> i have a tumblr by the same name if you wish to see ficupdates and all the other shit I post on there.  
> My friend Nancy beta'd this for me.


End file.
